What I've Done
by fantasydancer
Summary: What might have taken place between the Abhorred one and the Herald that would have made Sauron repent his deeds? What was the real reason? (Just my take on what happened between Sauron and Eönwë after the War of Wrath. No slash. Characters are most likely OC. Title from the Linkin Park song.)


_**Disclaimer: I do not own Middle-Earth, nor its people, sadly. I only own my OC's.**_

"My lord."

Morgoth had failed. He had been cast into the Void and his strongholds destroyed.

"My lord?"

Now the Valar were searching everywhere for him. Just like they had before.

"My lord?"

Sauron turned away from his dark musings and where he was looking at the desolation of Arda. "What?" He barked.

The Orc flinched, but continued. "The sentinels reported the herald is coming."

Sauron turned sharply. "Who?" He kept all fear from his voice, certain that he knew which herald it was.

"Eönwë, my lord."

Sauron fought off a flinch. His old friend from Aman was coming here. To his hiding place in the Iron Mountains. The War of Wrath had ended less than a week ago, and Morgoth had been taken to Valinor to be tried and punished. Others had searched for Sauron, but he knew that they would not find him. There had only ever been one who had a chance at finding Sauron the Abhorred.

"What should we do, my lord?" The Orc asked, a quiver in his voice. Even what little remained of Morgoth's servants knew that they had little chance if they were engaged in another battle.

"Bring him here." Sauron replied lowly.

"My lord?' The Orc asked, thinking he had not heard right.

"I said, bring him here!" Sauron commanded vehemently.

The Orc cringed and turned with a short bow and nod to retrieve the herald and bring him to his master. Sauron stretched his gaze over the land to see the ruin of Thangorodrim. He beheld the ruined throne of his former master and cursed.

He regretted having ever left Aman. He remembered the Blessed Realm. It had been beautiful beyond description. Why he had ever listened to Melkor in the first place, he knew not. He felt like a foolish child that had followed their friend into the woods to play a game, but had wandered too far and become lost.

"Cursing in Elven tongues are we, my friend?"

Sauron did flinch this time. He turned sharply to see the herald of Manwë standing behind him, looking calm, yet grim. He was in the visage of one of the Firstborn, his hair dark and his eyes grey, reminding Sauron of the race of the Noldor. His armor had been polished since the battle and his cloak seemed to have been mended and cleaned as well. A great broadsword hung at his waist.

Eönwë raised one eyebrow and crossed his arms. "Well?"

Sauron had another moment of feeling like a naughty child. He suddenly remembered that Eönwë was Chief of the Maiar. And at one time had been his superior. He kept his gaze hard. "Well, what?"

Eönwë rolled his eyes, a habit he had obviously picked up from spending time with the Secondborn. He strode forward until he stood directly in front of his old friend. "Are you coming or not?"

Sauron was taken aback. "Coming where?" He asked.

Eönwë's eyes softened. "Back to Aman. You must face the judgment of Manwë, just as Melkor did."

Sauron froze for long moment before he turned his back on Eönwë and strode a few paces away. He stopped at the edge of the bluff and looked out over the ruin of Arda once more. The beauty of it had been marred beyond even the skills of the Valar to fix.

"Mairon." This time Sauron's flinch was matched with a grimace.

"Do not call me that." He said lowly.

Eönwë furrowed his brow. "But that is your true name."

Sauron turned furiously. "I left that name behind long ago."

"Before you joined Melkor in his evil deeds."

There was no condemnation in Eönwë's voice, but still Sauron swallowed hard before answering. "Aye."

Eönwë nodded. "True, but you shall ever remain a Maiar, and as I am Chief of the Maiar, I shall call you by your true name given to you by the Ilúvatar." Sauron did not reply to this and after a moment Eönwë continued softly. "Why did you do it?"

Sauron glanced at him from where he had been staring off again. His shoulders slumped in defeat. "I know not."

"Was the temptation of power too tempting, my brother? Did the Blessed Realm not satisfy you?"

Sauron gave no answer and instead carefully kept his eyes lowered.

"We have missed you." Eönwë continued in his gentle, lyrical voice. "Come home and I will see to it that you are given a fair trial in the Ring of Doom. Perhaps the Valar will grant you pardon after you have served your penance."

Sauron shuddered. The humiliation of having to return to Valinor. To return home in shame. It was more than he thought he could bear. Sauron shook his head. "I cannot return there." He whispered.

Eönwë moved closer and placed a hand on his old friend's shoulder. Sauron recoiled slightly, but more so from shock that Eönwë was offering him comfort rather than condemning him. "Why not, my brother?"

The endearments moved Sauron more than he would admit. He felt his dark shell shattering around him and it was replaced with a beautiful form of the Firstborn. This form was much similar to Eönwë's except Sauron's eyes were blue. A dark blue, like the deepest of oceans, and like sapphires delved in the lowest parts of the mountains. Sauron felt tears gathering in his eyes as he remembered Aman, and the beautiful trees of Yavanna, and the halls of his old home, and the times he had spent in his younger years with his fellow brethren Maiar.

"I have caused far too much suffering there."

Eönwë looked grim, but his eyes were full of compassion. "Aye, but you can atone for it."

Sauron looked up. "Forgive me, my lord." He pleaded. "Please. Please, forgive me, my friend. Pardon me for my past misdeeds."

Eönwë's eyes grew sad. "I forgave you long ago, brother. But I cannot pardon your misdeeds officially, nor serve out penance for such transgressions to one of my own order."

Sauron swallowed hard and a few of the tears trailed down his pale cheeks. "But I am afraid to return to Valinor." He fought hard to keep his voice from trembling. "I will be forced into servitude for the Valar."

"We serve the Ainur, Mairon. 'Tis no different than that. You shall not be treated cruelly. And if you are then I will speak with Manwë about it, and he will put a stop to it."

Sauron looked up as more tears rolled down his cheeks. Eönwë gazed down compassionately at his long time friend. He brushed a hand over his cheek to wipe the tears that were merely replaced by more. Sauron finally spoke in a whisper that would have been hard for a child of Men to catch. "I miss our home."

Eönwë smiled softly. "Then come home, brother. Please."

Sauron glanced down and sniffed. He knew he now looked as much like a naughty child as he felt like. "I will think on it, brother. I-If you will stay here awhile."

Eönwë took Sauron's head in his hands and lifted his chin so he could see his eyes. His dark sapphire eyes. He smiled gently at his adopted brother. "I believe that that can be arranged, my brother."

Sauron smiled slightly and Eönwë kissed his brow before pulling him into a tight embrace. Sauron glanced once more at the ruin of Arda. He had helped cause this ruin. He had aided in the destruction of such a beautiful realm. Now perhaps he could make it right. But he did not think he could face the Valar. The shame and humiliation would be far too much to bear. Still…he would do everything else that Eönwë asked of him. He grasped Eönwë's shoulders tightly as tears tumbled down his face.

Eönwë gripped the quivering servant of the Dark Lord firmly. His brother was safe now. He could convince him to come home. He knew he could. Eönwë closed his eyes as two tears of relief fell from his eyes.

And so for a while there was peace between the Herald of Manwë and the former servant of Morgoth.


End file.
